A Tisket, A Tasket, Pam's Rockin' Pink Casket
by LoveyHowl
Summary: This is wrong, but that's where my mind went...
1. Chapter 1

True Blood S4

I own nothing.

A Tisket, A Tasket, Pam's Rockin' Pink Casket

Ginger had done as Pam commanded: she had given her the last of the six injections needed to restore her outward appearance; she'd lain the chain mail shroud across Pam's body. Pam's screams were immediate and heartbreaking. No sooner than Ginger had shut the coffin lid a strange gust of wind began to course through the basement; Pam's curses and screams took on even a more horrific timbre and the coffin began to rock wildly.

Ginger felt helpless. Would Pam be able to escape? Would the coffin be enough to hold her? Even though she was scared out of her wits she felt she had to do something; but because most of her wits had been glamored out of her she stupidly climbed on top of the coffin hoping her body weight would help to keep Pam safely contained.

But Ginger forgot that she only weighed about 95 pounds wet—as soon as got on top of it she realized her mistake. Pam's fury and strength, combined with the spell of the Necromancer had the coffin bucking wildly; Ginger felt like she was lying on top of fault line that had just erupted in a 9.0 earthquake. Ginger screamed in terror; even though the centrifugal force of rocking casket held her in place she still feared that she would be thrown to her death. Ginger tried to think, but thinking was futile. At some point, however, she realized that she wasn't riding an earthquake at all—she was on top of the best vibrator ever made on God's green earth. She stopped screaming in horror and started moaning with orgasmic delight.

"What the fuck? Ginger? You stupid cunt, stop humping my coffin!" Pam shrieked when she realized the nature of Ginger's screams and that they were eclipsing her own.

"I'm...not...humping...your...coffin...Pam...it's humping...me! Oh, yes!"

"You stupid bitch! GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY COFFIN!" Pam roared at her exasperatedly. This, amongst everything else was just too much for Pam. "GINGER! GINGER!" she called to her in a rage, sending the coffin on another round of explosive vibrations.

"Oh...yes! Yes!" Ginger struggled to get the words out, "Get... madder...Pam...get madder!"


	2. Chapter 2

True Blood S4

I own nothing.

I have absolutely no idea what will happen next on the show, but because I have entirely too much free time on my hands at the moment, here's Part 2:

A Tisket, A Tasket, Pam's Rockin' Pink Casket

Ginger Gets Promoted

It's early evening in Shreveport. Bill and Eric are sitting together at a table inside Fangtasia, sipping fresh warm blood in brandy snifters and chatting amiably as they await the arrival of the Nan Flanagan.

It has been two weeks since the hell storm that was Antonia Gavilan has been vanquished. The Authority spin masters have been working overtime and Nan is coming to give them the latest report.

There have been many vampire causalities, but the human populace in general hasn't taken as much notice of the carnage as the Authority originally feared. The best damage control has been provided from a surprising source and has distracted hordes of humans from ever realizing what has really occurred in Bon Temps and the global catastrophe that has ultimately been averted.

The unlikely hero of the day stands behind the bar munching on a peanut butter and butter sandwich, unaware of anything except the delight her taste buds are experiencing.

Nan arrives, elegantly attired in a silver-colored leather Dolce and Gabbana power suit, flanked by her guards.

"Gentlemen...and Ginger...good evening."

"Oh, hi!" Ginger greets her in her usual overly-familiar way. Nan rolls her eyes and looks to Bill and Eric, who are now standing at attention.

"Good evening, Nan," they say in unison.

"Where is Pam?" Nan asks irritatedly.

"I will get her," Eric excuses himself and goes to his office. He returns, guiding Pam gently into the room. Pam is still sporting a veil and clothes that cover every inch of her body and is in visibly obvious pain. She looks at Nan and almost suffers a PTSD episode as she takes in the horror that is her outfit.

"It's okay, Pam, it's not real silver, you know D & G when you see it," Eric gently reminds her. She calms down and stands at attention but says nothing. Eric gives her a look, forgiving yet stern. Pam shifts on her foot and puts her hand defiantly on her hip. Eric raises an eyebrow at her, all evidence of his forgiveness gone.

"Good evening, Ms. Flanagan." she says obstinately, as a school girl would grudgingly say to a strict, severe teacher.

Nan sniffs at the air, but says nothing. Pam's crestfallen face registers the slight.

"Now, that everyone is here let's get down to business. This will be brief. Ginger, come here, please."

It is an order, not a request, and Ginger scurries over to join them.

"The Antonia Gavilan debacle was the worst shit-up this side of Russell Edgington. But thanks to you, stupid humans all over Bon Temps were distracted enough not to even really notice. The promotion you held here during the daylight hours of the week that vampires went to ground silvered not only netted Fangtasia 1.4 million in profits, but has started a craze all over the nation. It has been the best PR for vampire-human relations ever and has single-handedly all but wiped out the Fang-hate and blown the steam out of the anti-vamp movement."

"You mean the Full Body Vibrator casket rides?" Ginger asks excitedly.

"Don't make me say it. But, yes."

Eric looks over at Pam, who is seething with rage, then back at Bill. In silent agreement they each slowly make their way to her, each taking a side to flank her. Eric holds her to him, saying nothing yet providing her much needed support.

"That fucking 'promotion' was _ME_, Nan!" Pam manages to get the words out without screaming at full pitch. "It was the most humiliating experience of my life, living or undead!"

"Shut the fuck up, Pam," Nan hisses at her.

"Nan, I respectfully ask you, please show some compassion," Eric beseeches cautiously.

"Fuck you, Eric," Nan spits venomously at him. "I think one thing we've all learned from this hot mess is that you can be any kind of vampire you want to be. All that's really required is complete obedience to the Authority. You want to be all loving and human—that's on you. But let's call a spade a spade, shall we?" Nan turns back to Pam, anger flashing in her eyes. "You're a loose cannon and I think you should be put down immediately. I could give a hang that the spell couldn't be reversed. I don't like you and I've never liked you—I will never like you. But since you're terminal you get a reprieve. And just so you know, that wasn't my decision. However, please note that you are skating on _VERY_ thin ice. One more slip up; one more outburst directed at a human; even one hint of a contemptible twitch of exposed muscle on your disgusting purple face remotely directed at a human and I will render the True Death upon you _personally._"

Pam is now whimpering in Eric's arms.

"Now, as I was saying..." Nan shoots Pam one last disgusted look and turns to Ginger. "...your infernal promotion has sparked a national craze. Vampire bars all over the world are installing these fucking bucking caskets. The revenue that this is going to generate is beyond imaginable. Because of this the Authority has deemed you a fit candidate to become one of us."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Pam says in a rage between gritted teeth.

"Eric," Nan says to him, ignoring Pam completely, "if that poor excuse of a zombie says one more word to me it's on tonight." Nan produces a spectacular silver weapon from her Burberry bag—her favorite Kota Gede stake crafted in the late 16th century. She holds it lovingly in her gloved hands, then raises it to her own cheek and lightly grazes herself, her skin burning, smoke wafting in gentle curlicued wisps about her head.

Bill winces, taken aback by Nan's display of total bat-shittery. He looks stunned, over to Eric who registers nothing as he instructs a horrified Pam to leave the room, which she does in a near frenzy.

"Bill," Nan calls him to attention, "You can alert the other sheriff's of these latest developments. The Authority wants these god-awful 'promotions' up and running in every area, every state by the end of next week. Naturally, an actual burning vampire will not be installed in these things, but the human public doesn't have to know that. Besides, it's what the twisted fucks find most appealing about it. The particulars will be e-mailed to all Kings and Queens globally by tomorrow evening."

"Yes, Nan. Thank you."

"Alright then, boys. One of you is to be Ginger's maker—your choice. Ginger darling," Nan says as she approaches Ginger and strokes her head like a little puppy dog, "I look forward to the rejuvenation of your brain. I think you might actually make a decent vampire." Nan surveys Ginger one last time and smirks to herself. She turns on her heel to leave Fangtasia.

"Goodnight, all," she says imperiously, "don't call me, I'll call you." Then she is gone.

"How do you want to handle this, my Liege," Eric smiles at Bill, genuinely intrigued at the whole situation and secretly happy for Ginger.

"Well, maybe we should let Ginger decide. Ginger, do you have a preference as to who you wish your Maker to be?" Bill asks her in earnest.

"Wow, I don't know, King Bill," says Ginger, her face contorted with anguished and complete indecision.

"I think it should be me," says Eric at last. "I am about to lose one daughter—I would be honored, Ginger, if you would join me in eternity."

Ginger melts at Eric's warm invitation. "Yes, I would like that. And I know we won't have long, but I would love to have Pam as a sister. I never had a sister."

"Let us begin, then. My King, could I ask that you stay with Pam tonight?"

"Of course, Eric, I would be happy to," Bill reassures him.

"Thank you. Ginger, come with me." Eric and Ginger leave.

Just then Pam comes out into the bar.

"I heard a door—is that bitch gone?" she asks Bill snarkily.

"Yes, Pam."

She looks around the room. "Where is Eric?"

"Pam, you are going to have a new member in your family."

"What?" she asks in a cold voice deader even than herself.

"The Authority has commanded one of us to be Ginger's Maker," he tells her, almost apologetically. "Eric is with her now. He has asked me to stay with you, to which I gladly consented."

Pam breaks into violent sobs and let's out the most inhuman tortured wail Bill has ever heard.

"AAARRRRGGHHH! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS MY LIFE!" and she runs from the room.

Bill rolls his eyes; he sits down at a table, sighs heavily and pours himself another snifter of fresh blood.


End file.
